


Social Engineering is Only a Crime in Some States

by daintylemonsquare



Category: Rise of the Demigods (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Canon Non-Binary Character, Canon Trans Character, Fluff, Fluff up the wa-fucking-zoo, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-06 03:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20500352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daintylemonsquare/pseuds/daintylemonsquare
Summary: There's something in the food at Demidoughnuts and it tastes really good. If a patron finds love there, that's on the patron. Pay no attention to the woman manning the cash register.





	Social Engineering is Only a Crime in Some States

_ Demidoughnuts _ was a lot like any other doughnut shops in the city. Unflattering lights, seemingly clean floors, chunky bright sign, big windows that boasted of their coffee-sandwich-doughnut combos, and an unsettling smell that was neither bad nor was it good.  _ Demidoughnuts  _ was also unlike a lot of doughnut shops in the city. First off, the tables didn’t smell of wet rag. Their tea was exquisite. The doughnuts were handmade, according to the sign up front. No one questioned it, since they could catch a glimpse of the active kitchen from the counter. What people did question was that there were only ever two people in the store most of the time. Neither of them looked like they’d been slaving away by an oven or a deep fryer prior to the store opening. There were soft couches towards the back for groups. In that area, there was a shelf of secondhand books that were for sale. Not just books about baking or doughnuts, but fiction, ranging from classic to young adult. Most of them were queer stories with queer authors. There was also a function area deep in the store that could be rented for a couple of nights until one in the morning—drinks and snacks consumable. 

_ Demidoughnuts  _ was a safe place at the end of a street, tucked between two bigger, local restaurants. It was cozy. It was warm. The owner, Belora, worked the counter for the most part, striking up conversations with the usual suspects and with people who liked coming over for the books. Kailu handled the drinks. Toola showed up when someone rented the place for whatever small gathering it was reserved for. People often joked that they could handle Belora, even Kailu, but they knew that Toola could fuck them up. Once, someone swore they saw Toola with a spear. That someone was kind of high at the time but they still stand by it to this day. 

For many people,  _ Demidoughnuts _ had a special place in their heart. It was where they found themselves in after a bad day, week, or month, and they didn’t want to destroy themselves with drugs, alcohol, or people. Belora and Kailu always seemed to have the perfect meal and drink ready. They were always discounted. It was where they could hang out with their friends without sensing any sort of judgement from onlookers. It was where people fell in love. 

It was almost an urban legend, these days. “If you want to fall in love, just go to  _ Demidoughnuts _ . It’ll work itself out.” A person could tell if their date really liked them or not if they took them to  _ Demidoughnuts _ . Not everyone who went on a date at that store worked out in the end, but those who do end up being those nauseating couples who either wouldn’t shut up about one other, wouldn’t be seen without each other, or would never not be together no matter the alternate universe.

“There’s something in the doughnuts,” they said.

“There’s something in the tea,” others argued. 

“Belora’s a witch,” more retorted, but this was often met with a giggle and a chuckle. After all, Belora had never once meddled with the affairs of her customers. She was there for food and for pleasant conversation, nothing more. 

Once, someone asked. It was masked in jest but everyone’s ears perked up for the answer. 

“No. If I were, I’d be charging people. With the amount of couples here, I’d be rich enough to start a chain of  _ Demidoughnuts _ .” She laughed. They laughed. No one could ever find proof. Those who tried never remembered what they found. 

* * *

“Just tell them how you feel, dude,” Renald said, as they entered the store. He unwrapped his scarf and took his hands out of his mittens. No matter how harsh the weather was outside, none of it seemed to permeate the shop. Not even if they left the door open to let a group of friends out. “Go up to them, say ‘hey St. Barb, I like you, I think you’re cute, wanna go out some time?’ They’re pretty chill, you know. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“They could hear me,” Bryant exclaimed, rubbing his fingers together. He didn’t expect it to be that cold even though Renald warned him to bundle up earlier. “And don’t say their name too loud. Their friends might be around.” He glanced around the shop. 

“I don’t know why you’re so intimidated,” Renald continued, lowering his voice as they stood in the line. “It’s not because they have ‘saint’ in their name, is it? You know Barb isn’t an actual saint. That’s just a nickname from their hometown,” he added with a saccharine tone reserved for toddlers who didn’t know left from right. 

Bryant shot him a glare. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Listen, I’m a nobody. The only thing I have going on for me is the scholarship that got me into the school and that’s it. I’m just a plain ass nerd.” Bryant raked his fingers through his hair. “They’re all artsy and cool and they listen to music from, like, forever ago or from people that only play in dive bars on Tuesdays during a full moon. And they’re so smart in ways that I’m not smart. I’m not going to be able to keep up with them.”

“You did, with the project,” Renald pointed out. 

“That’s different. That’s school,” Bryant muttered. “There are books to hide behind and get answers from. I can’t just open a book then figure out how to be their perfect match, you know?” 

Renald rolled his eyes. “C’mon. Who said anything about it having to be a perfect match? And it’s not like you have to get married right away. You’re just asking for a date. A chance. You won’t die.” 

“But I could.” 

“Maybe, because I’m itching to strangle you right now.” 

“What’ll it be today, boys?” Belora announced when they stepped up to the cash register. 

“Do you have anything that’ll get my friend’s head out of his ass?” Renald asked. 

Bryant elbowed his shoulder hard. “Dude.” 

Belora waggled her head. “Maybe not but there’s a  _ 7Eleven _ a block over. Take three energy drinks. That should do the trick, if it’s a confidence thing.” 

“No thanks. Energy drinks are bad for your kidneys or something.” Bryant forced a smile. “Can we get that big box of butternut demidoughnuts? We just need a pick-me-up. To go, please.” 

“Finals, eh?” Belora commented as she pulled a flat box out from under the counter and popped it upright. “Care for some camomile with the box? You look a little agitated. I’ll give you a discount.” She kept her face turned to them while she tossed doughnut holes into the box three at a time. 

“No,” Bryant answered. “I’m good. Thank you.” 

“I’ll take it. You know, if the ‘haggard student’ discount still applies.” Bryant’s eyes widened at the sound of Barb’s voice behind him. His shoulders tightened. He rewound his thoughts, wondering at what point had Barb stood behind them and how much they heard. Anywhere else, he would’ve felt the strong winter breeze signal an entrance. Not at  _ Demidoughnuts _ and its perfect climate control. 

“Anything for you, hon,” Belora replied. “Kailu, get in here!” 

“Hey,” Renald said, dragging the greeting as he nudged Bryant’s ankle with his shoe. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“I’m always here,” Barb replied, their voice sending a quiver just behind Bryant’s ears. A lone butterfly fluttered through his stomach. It made Bryant sick. 

Bryant turned. “Hi. Barb. When did you get here?” 

Barb shrugged. “Just a little bit ago.” 

Bryant couldn’t figure out Barb’s face. It was a smooth expression between nonchalance and boredom. No indication as to whether or not they heard anything about his insecurities. He figured he should probe but his pause was already too long and he didn’t know where to start without blurting a recap of the earlier conversation. “I like your…” He forgot the word. He began gesturing to Barb’s hood and formed the shape with his fingers. 

“Horns?” Barb touched the top of their gray hood where two black plush horns sat. They pulled it down, not meeting anyone’s eyes. 

“Oh I’m sorry if I made you—I mean—I like the horns—I don’t mean. Anyway. They’re nice.” Whenever Bryant was around Barb, he couldn’t help but feel like he could melt into a puddle. Sometimes, it was in a good way, like when Barb smiled, which was rare, or when Barb made a comment under their breath and only Bryant was the closest one to hear it. This wasn’t one of those good ways. He wished he was a puddle Kailu had to mop up. He wasn’t prepared to see them at all today. 

“Thanks...They were a gift from my roommates.” 

Bryant chuckled. “Oh my god they were roommates.” 

“I don’t get it.” 

Bryant fought the urge to punch himself in the face. “Good gift giving by the roommates.”

“Yeah.” Bryant knew that running away screaming was the worst idea but it was either that or asking Barb if they could rewind the conversation and start from the top with a better script. 

“Here are your big box of our signature demidoughnuts,” Belora announced with a bow. She always bowed for the staple of her store. “Are you sure I can’t tempt you with a drink, my dears?” 

Bryant whirled around, happy to get out of that awkward hole he dug himself in. “It’s cool. Maybe next time. We have to pack for the holidays.” He’d already packed and before Renald could correct him he added, “We still have a lot to stuff into our suitcases. And we have to do some holiday shopping and whatnotsoever.” Renald couldn’t help but snort. 

“Are you having a stroke?” Barb asked. 

“Yes,” Renald muttered the same time Bryant said, “No.” He glared at Renald. 

“It’s been a weird day and I’m in a little rush sorry,” Bryant said in a breath. He dug out his wallet to pay Belora. “Keep the change. Gotta go. Nice seeing you. Happy holidays.” Bryant pulled Renald by the elbow. Just before Renald could say anything and before they could get to the door, lightning crashed through the sky and thunder poured alongside the rain. Their place was three blocks away. Neither of them could afford getting pneumonia. Bryant’s shoulders drooped. 

“Well, that sucks.” Barb seemed to squeeze the words out of their throat. Instead of blowing on the steam that rose from their mug of tea, they sighed on it. Bryant was too aware of how far he was from Barb. “I was going to go to my apartment and do some packing myself. Not that I’m going home or celebrate much of anything. Just maybe clean up, you know?” 

Bryant laughed. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t stop laughing after a couple of good “haha’s” but he decided it was better to commit than to come to an abrupt stop. 

“It wasn’t that funny,” Barb said, taking the first sip of tea. 

Bryant coughed. He began to say something, anything to make this better, but Barb was already walking away. Suddenly, catching pneumonia wasn’t the worst way to go. 

Renald clasped a hand on Bryant’s shoulder. “Why don’t we just sit down?” 

Bryant rubbed his face. “Oh my god. Oh. My god. Ohmygod. Just bury me now.” Renald sat him down on a fluffy seat on one corner of the shop by the window. 

“Can’t do that. I don’t have a permit to drill through the concrete,” Renald replied. He sighed at the torrent of rain banging against the window. “Looks like we’re stranded here until it lets up. Might as well go for that tea Belora offered.” With one last tap on the shoulder, Renald went back to the counter, where a line of people who sought shelter from the rain was forming. 

Bryant pried open the box of doughnut holes and stuffed three straight into his mouth. He closed his eyes. He wasn’t usually this inept at talking to people he liked, but the combination of sleep deprivation, the chance of losing his scholarship if his grades didn’t improve after this semester, and then the literal sociology exam from hell short circuited him. Barb showing up, unannounced, right in the middle of talking about them was just the event that overloaded him. 

“Hey, um—” Bryant gasped then hacked out a mostly chewed on demidoughnut. “Oh god. Please don’t die. I’m not sure how to do the Heimlich maneuver properly.” 

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Bryant slammed his fist to his chest then looked up as he wiped his eyes. 

“So...as you can see with your eyes, the shop’s full.” Barb gestured to the shop. “You and Ronald are the only ones I know here. I briefly considered standing up the whole time but I, like you, have been feeling the destructive qualities of higher education.” 

“Yeah. Yeah! Okay, take a seat. We won’t mind.” Barb sat and it was quiet. The kind of quiet that everyone could taste and touch the longer it went on. 

“His name is Renald,” Bryant said. 

“I know, I just like to fuck with him.” Barb’s lips quirked into a small smile and Bryant’s knees wobbled. His world threatened to tilt even though he was sitting down. Barb sipped their tea. Bryant opened his phone, swiped through his apps without opening any of them, then closed his phone. 

“Have some demidoughnuts,” Bryant slide the box towards Barb. 

“Sure. Thanks.” Barb took one. They stared out the window as they chewed. Bryant watched for a second then looked away before Barb realized he was being a creep. The quiet that settled on the table began to make Bryant’s arms itch. He opened his mouth, then closed it. The second he was going to comment on the weather was the second he was going to drown himself in a puddle. He had to come up with something more original. 

“This song isn’t the shop’s usual playlist,” Barb commented as they picked up another demidoughnut. 

Bryant took a moment to focus on the song. The production was different, for sure. The shop had a healthy mix of top one-hundreds and uncommon indies, but this one had a haunting beat to it that he figured was catchy to some extent. It wasn’t anything that he listened to. 

“Yeah, sounds like the song they play under a red band psychological horror thriller trailer with a lot of blood,” Bryant said, sprinkling his tone with jest. 

Barb faced him. “It’s one of my favorite songs.” 

The itch the silence left on his arms began to turn into a full-blown rash. “Oh. I’m...That fits your aesthetic, doesn’t it?” 

To his relief, Barb chortled. “Yeah. It does.” They waggled their head and sipped their tea. 

“What’s the title?” 

“No offense, but why do you care?” 

Bryant executed a practiced shrug. “I guess it’s interesting.” 

Barb stared at him and Bryant believed they were going to stand up and find a corner to drink their tea and wait out the storm. He steeled himself for it. He wondered if he could apply for a different school. Then Barb said, “My Body by Perfume Genius.” 

“Do you listen to a lot of their songs or is this the only one?” Barb’s eyes seemed to brighten for a moment before disappearing under a slate of well-manicured indifference. Nevertheless, Bryant caught it. That lone butterfly in his stomach was joined by five friends.

Meanwhile, Renald was about to return with the tea but decided to return to the pick-up counter and drink the tea there. Kailu asked him to make room for other orders. Belora didn’t ask him to go anywhere else. In fact, the longer Renald stood there without Bryant or Barb realizing that he hadn’t rejoined the table after fifteen minutes, the more he noticed Belora glancing over to their table and smiling to herself.

Belora caught him noticing and winked, as if it was planned all along. But that wasn’t possible. There was no way she could’ve known it was going to rain this hard and for Barb to lose their usual spot in the shop to a gaggle of gays complaining about the rain and the carbs in this establishment then losing every table to other patrons until they were forced to sit with Bryant. She couldn’t have controlled all that.

Before Renald could think about it too much, Belora set down a small bowl of demidoughnuts. “Looks like Barb ate your share. On the house,” Belora said. And just like that, Renald was too preoccupied by how great the doughnut holes tasted to think further about Belora’s investment in Barb and Bryant. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry in advance. I'm not going to be updating this regularly because I have other things to write and I just got out of a depression hole so I'm trying to not overload my plate. Just know that there will be five chapters and that I intend to finish this at some point. I hope you enjoy!


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